


Rescues

by knightinmourning



Series: All for One [2]
Category: Star Trek
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Collars, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Multi, No Sex, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 18:55:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18644089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightinmourning/pseuds/knightinmourning
Summary: Chris was captured on a mission a week ago. Having finally located him, Number One, Spock, and Phil stage a rescue mission, only to discover something new about their captain in the process.





	Rescues

The captain was missing, and Number One was out for blood.  
  
She wasn’t playing here. The away team was her, Phil, and Spock, and her and Spock each had phaser rifles set to kill. They weren’t hesitating to use them either, taking out the terrorists in this remote forest base without discrimination.

It wasn’t exactly the Starfleet regulated way of doing things, but it had been a week since Chris had disappeared, and Number One had spent the whole week on edge, her stomach roiling with fear that when they finally found him, he’d already be dead. It was a feeling she couldn’t quite understand; yes, she cared deeply for her captain and would do anything to save him, but now she felt something…  _ more _ .

And she could tell from the looks on Spock’s and Phil’s faces that they very much felt the same way.

“You have his lifesigns yet, Spock?” she asked her science officer. He consulted his tricorder, glancing over the readings for a minute before nodding.

“We’re just in range. This way.” With that, Spock led them through a series of hallways that all looked the same. Grey, metal walls, lined with a material that blocked transporters surrounded them, divided up by regular doors that slid open only if you passed a retinal scan, and more intersections, going every which way.

Before terrorists occupied this temple, it had belonged to the members of the A’otambra race, bipeds who Number One had always thought resembled werewolves, with their sharp fangs and thick fur. The difference was that the A’otambra had been a relatively peaceful species, before they were wiped out and their planet was taken over by criminals.

They turned left down a hallway with more doors than the previous, and Spock led them to what seemed like a random door near the midpoint. As they walked, Number One lifted her rifle and shot two more of the terrorists before they could even draw their weapons.

These guys were slow, lazy, and incompetent, and Number One didn’t have the time or energy to deal with them in any more meaningful way.

“This the one, Spock?” Phil asked.

“Correct. Stand back and I will unlock the door.” He grabbed the panel containing the retinal scanner and got to work eviscerating it to trip the lock. Phil stood on the other side of the door, waiting to enter, and Number One positioned herself in front of both of them, ready to fight anything that came at them, though the hall was currently empty.

Spock made quick work of the lock, and soon enough Number One heard the door hiss open behind her. She had intended to stay in her place and guard the area while Phil worked, but a gasp from him made her turn her head to see what was in the room behind her.

At first glance, Number One thought Spock had led them to the wrong cell. It looked empty, just a barren, filthy square of space, like an old, unused closet. As she stepped inside and saw where Phil was standing, however, she realized how wrong she’d been.

Curled in a corner of the room, dressed only in a blindfold and a collar and tied at the hands and feet, was Captain Pike.

Now that she was closer, she could hear him muttering, just softly, over and over again. “No, please, I’ll be good, I promise, I’ll be good this time, I’ll do whatever you want, please, just don’t make me do that again and I’ll do anything else please…”

And just like that, Una understood. Understood the butterflies in her stomach from the past week, that made her feel like she was missing part of herself, understood all the times Chris had danced out of her reach when she’d tried to put a hand on his shoulder or arm, understood why it felt like nearly every single person on board went into murder-mode whenever Chris was hurt.

Her captain was a sub.

There would be fallout for this later. Una would have to chat with Phil and Spock about being careful about how they worded their reports, so they didn’t let on that their captain wasn’t who he claimed to be.

She was just about to get him back, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to give him up again.

But that was all for her to worry about later. Right now, Phil was kneeling next to Chris, scanning him with a medical tricorder and trying to sooth him with gentle words. “It’s alright, Captain, we’re here, we’re going to get you out of here. You’re going to be okay.”

It wasn’t working, and when Phil reached over to Chris’s wrists to undo his bindings, Chris shouted and flung his arms out hitting Phil in the face and knocking him over.

_ That’s it. We can’t pretend anymore _ .

She stepped up to her captain, standing a couple feet away from him and hoping that he might someday understand her decisions here, even if he was in no state too right now.

“Up, pet. On your knees.” She barked out the order, and only felt a slight tug at her heart as he struggled to obey, shifting to his knees slowly like the movement hurt. She could see now the some of his injuries, bruises and cuts littering his torso, and blood trailing from his thighs.  
  
_ No wonder he’s terrified _ .

Phil was standing up and backing away, letting Una take control of the situation. At the sound of movement beside him, Chris gasped and turned his head to the side.

“Hush. Your focus is to be on me, and only me. Do you understand? Speak.”

“Yes.” The word came out in barely more than a rough, slurred whisper. She wondered if they’d banned him from speaking.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

Una could have laughed. It was good enough for her, though she was more used to her subs referring to her as  _ mistress  _ or  _ ma’am _ . She kept in mind that for as long as Chris had to have been hiding his submission, he likely didn’t have much practical experience, and maybe not any with a female domme.

“Good. Speak only when asked, okay? Now, I’m going to touch you. You’re being such a good boy.”

The involuntary shiver that went through Chris was so strong Una was sure even Spock, standing behind her and patiently watching the scene, could see it clearly. Chris, for his part, bit his lip to stave off what sounded like it might be a whimper.

_ God, he’s so responsive _ .

She was going to murder every single person in this goddamn temple.

Una took a couple steps towards Chris, and started by just cupping his cheek. Her fingers barely touched his jaw, however, and he flinched so violently he was back on the ground, struggling back into the corner they’d found him in.

Phil stepped up to her, voice low in her ear. “I’d be very careful with touching him. His injuries are extensive, including a broken jaw.”

Una sighed and nodded. It would have been helpful to know that before, but the fact was the silence of the other two doms in the room was helping a lot right now, allowing Chris to focus only on her.

And for her to focus on him. “Hey, baby. I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize your jaw was hurt. You’re being so good right now. Can we try again? I’d like to take your blindfold off you. Is that okay? Speak.”

Chris was still breathing hard, his head now tucked into his chest to keep it away from any further touching, but he still managed to shake his head.

“I know it’s hard, baby, but I’m going to need a verbal answer.”

He hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure now how to respond, before launching again into his mumbling. “No, please, don’t. I- I don’t want, I can’t, please don’t make me, please, I…”

Una was trying to figure out where to go from there when Spock stepped up beside her and addressed the scared sub. “ _ Christopher _ , stop speaking.”

Chris’s mouth snapped shut, which Una was sure probably hurt considering the condition of his jaw, but he showed no indication of that pain.

“I am going to place my fingers on your face. I will not attempt to remove your blindfold and I will be careful of your other injuries.”

He didn’t ask permission or wait for Chris to respond, merely dropping down beside Chris so that he was next to the sub but not touching him, and then reaching out with one hand and setting it onto the other man’s face.

_ A mind meld. Of course _ .

Una was glad for the quick thinking of her Vulcan colleague, and was even more so when she noticed that Chris wasn’t pulling away, allowing the soft touch. After a moment in which everyone was frozen in place, Spock pulled away, closing his eyes and propping himself against the wall.

“Christopher, Number One is going to remove your blindfold. You will sit still for her as she does so.”

With that, Una stepped up again and carefully undid the wrap around Chris’s head. It fell away and he blinked up at her, bleary eyes not quite focusing on her. “Hey, baby. I’ve got you. I’d like to get these ties off your wrists and ankles, okay? I bet they’re pretty uncomfortable.”

Chris shook his head, a tiny, frantic movement that Una barely caught.

“Can you tell me why not? You can speak.”

“They’ll be mad.”

“They aren’t your concern right now, baby boy. We are. You don’t have to worry about them anymore.”

Chris’s bound hands came up to the collar around his neck, a high tech one that Una wasn’t used to seeing among humans. The few bonded pairs on the ship preferred something gentle like leather or a similar synthetic. The idea of having one of these electronic locking collars that shocked the sub if they tried to leave the area seemed cruel to most people.

After all, if your sub was wearing your collar willingly, why did you have to make it impossible for them to take it off? Shouldn’t they choose not to do so? Una preferred those decisions to be the active choice of her subs, not something forced upon them.

The ethics of collaring weren’t her concern right now, though. She just had to get the damn thing off her captain. “Spock, you think you can break the lock on that collar?”

“I can try. Sit still, Christopher.” Spock pulled himself away from the wall with an effort that told Una exactly how much energy the mind meld had taken from him. 

Phil took the opportunity to step up to Chris again, now that the sub was sitting patiently for Spock. “While you’re being so good and waiting for Spock, I’m going to start healing some of your injuries. Dermal regenerator first, I think. We’ll get some of the minor stuff out of the way now, and deal with the worst of it when we’re back on the Enterprise.”

Chris still jumped, just a little, when the device started, the humming spooking him out of the relaxed state that he’d worked himself into while trying to stay still for Spock. Both men were muttering little compliments to their captain, telling him he was good and handsome and sweet and safe.

While Una had nothing to do for a moment, she poked her head out the door of the cell and glanced down the hallway to either side. A single terrorist was walking down the corridor, and when he lifted his gun and fired at her, she responded with her own rifle fire, killing him instantly.

Over the sound of the phaser rifle, Una didn’t hear Chris’s yelp, but when she looked back she saw he had brought his hands back up to cover his head. Spock was working on a part of his neck that was still visible and didn’t even flinch at the movement, probably figuring that getting the collar off as quickly as possible was more important than stopping to soothe the frightened sub. Phil, still holding the dermal regenerator, weaved his free hand between Chris’s fingers, and slowly dragged the man’s hands down so they rested on his knees. 

A few more minutes passed without anything happening. Chris looked like he was drifting, the trauma of the past week and the energy it took to focus on three different doms giving him orders and manipulating his body too much for him. 

And then Spock pressed a series of buttons on the side of the collar and it released, dropping away in two pieces. His neck finally free, Chris brought his hands up, trying to feel the emptiness around his neck, but with his wrists still bound, it was a struggle, and he ended up just bumping the now-bare flesh with the backs of his fingers.

“Chris, baby, let’s get those bindings off now, okay?” Una said softly, not asking for a verbal response this time because as soon as she said  _ bindings _ , Chris was nodding and holding his wrists out to her. She had to cut them free, glad she’d picked up the habit of carrying a knife on away missions. Once Chris’s wrists were free, Phil grabbed them and began massaging them in between examining their bruises. Una continued on to his ankles, repeating the process with the knife and then mimicking Phil’s actions to try to restore blood flow to the area.

“Can you stand?” Spock asked when Phil and Una finished, releasing Chris’s limbs and stepping back to give him some space. Chris nodded, and pushed himself to stand on shaky legs. His kept his head down and made no attempt to hide himself in his nakedness.

Phil had already done a treatment with the dermal regenerator, but Una wouldn’t have known that if she hadn’t seen it. Now that Chris was standing, she could see the full extent of the injuries that littered his body, not a single surface untouched by cuts, bruises, and burns. 

She tamped down on the rage that filled her body in that moment, knowing it wasn’t the time. Right now she had to make the best decisions for Chris’s wellbeing, and as much as she wanted to, going on a rampage against the people who had done this wasn’t a good choice.

But they weren’t going to get very far like this. After they made it back out of this maze-like temple, they had to make it through the forest to a clearing about a mile away, and Chris would need protection against the thorns and brambles of the foliage, as well as something to keep the dirt away.

Luckily, Una was wearing her dress-style uniform today, the long, thick one-piece dress covering an undershirt and leggings.

She unzipped the yellow dress that cover her to nearly to her knees and slid it onto Chris’s shoulders, helping him into the sleeves and then zipping it up for him. It left Una in thick leggings and a black undershirt, which would probably not protect her from the forest’s natural defenses, but the covering would provide perfect protection for Chris, which was more important. Maybe they could steal some shoes for him from one of the dead terrorists on the way out, too.

And then they were on their way out, moving slowly as Chris limped between them. They had to take frequent stops for him to rest, but he always started moving again after a few minutes, pushing himself as much as he could. Una made sure that whenever he stopped, she would place herself beside him and remind him how incredible he was, the slight flush of red under the bruising to his face making the effort more than worth it to her.

Una allowed herself to wonder if Chris had ever had someone praise him like this. He certainly deserved it, and Una already knew that once they got back on the Enterprise, she was going to try to keep it up.

The group was lucky not to run into anyone else on their way out, and Una wondered if perhaps they had taken everyone out on their way in. She figured it unlikely, but she also wasn’t about to turn away the one bit of good fortune they’d had. One of the times they stopped to rest, Una walked over to a corpse down the hallway and pulled its boots off, returning to the group and sliding them onto Chris’s feet and tying the laces, not unlike how she might with a young child.  
  
Once they reached the entrance, Spock led them back to the transport site, through underbrush so thick it took them over an hour to walk the mile, including having to stop a few times for Phil to heal some of the myriad of cuts Chris was collecting on his bare legs.

Ever since they had left the cell he had been kept in, Chris had been silent, doing as they asked, if they asked, and otherwise going where they went. When he was tired, he stopped, leaning against a wall or a tree as he caught his breath and letting them manipulate his body this way and that. Una was enraptured by how obedient and trusting he was, never fighting them now that his concerns had been met and taken care of.

Chris Pike, Una was certain, could have made someone an incredible sub in another life.

She preferred him as her captain though, and that was what she was going to focus on saving right now. They approached the clearing, a meadow with colorful wildflowers as tall as their waists, and followed Spock to the middle of it. When they got there, Spock pulled out his communicator, but Una put a hand up before he could speak.

“Phil, do you have a sedative or something on you?”

“I do. What are you thinking?” Phil asked, eyebrows furrowed as he considered her request.

“That perhaps Chris might prefer to not have to answer any difficult questions from your staff for a few hours.”  _ That he’s less likely to tip people off to his role as a sub if he’s not conscious enough to take orders _ , was left unsaid. Una knew he’d get the idea, and was glad to see him nod after a moment.

Phil pulled a hypospray from his medpack and faced Chris. “Chris? This hypo will put you to sleep for a few hours. It’ll give your mind and body a chance to rest. Are you okay with that? I’ll be with you the whole time.”

Chris nodded, maintaining the silence that he’d started well over an hour ago now. Una would have pushed for verbal consent, but Phil seemed content with the nod, at least in the current circumstances, and pressed the hypo into his captain’s neck. The effect was instantaneous and Spock stepped up behind Chris to catch him and guide him to the ground.

Una looked between the two men who were still standing and then opened her own communicator. “Enterprise, we’ve got him. Four to beam directly to sickbay.”


End file.
